


Even If It's Just Pretend

by pansexualstein (octavia_romanus)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, JUST, M/M, Post-Canon, and, but like, i suck, in which tyrone is one of the pines triplets, it's based on tumblr rp, this is a ship that literally no one ships, this is how you fall into unpopular ship hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:28:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4919587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octavia_romanus/pseuds/pansexualstein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Robbie goes to university, he sort of misses that chubby little nerd kid. Sort of. He obviously doesn't crave his presence and think about him every minute of the day. Obviously not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even If It's Just Pretend

**Author's Note:**

> So, I totally suck. I really missed RPing the Robbie/Ty ship, so I wrote a thing about it based on Taylor Swift's Wildest Dreams during class. Ha ha ha... this ship kills me inside.

Everything about everything reminded Robbie of Tyrone.

Music, food, even  _class_ \-- it all reminded him of the missing link to happiness that he'd left behind in Gravity Falls. He went to school in Portland, which wasn't too far from his home, but it felt like oceans and oceans away.

But summer-- oh God,  _summer_ \-- those glorious months when he came from Portland and Tyrone came from Piedmont:  _those_  months were the months he lived for.

_It’s hopeless, Robbie,_ he told himself. That past summer, he and Tyrone had had a really _confusing_ “I’m-into-your-brother-crap-you’re-really-hot-let’s-make-out” stint. Two weeks of absolute literal bliss. Confusing bliss, but bliss nonetheless, and then Ty had to leave with Mabel and Dipper.

“We’ll figure something out,” he’d said, putting one chubby hand in Robbie’s gloved one. He’d left it there, palm damp in the most adorable way. That had comforted Robbie _then,_ and, admittedly, the memory still made his chest warm and pinpricks of happiness run up his arm, but it left him with a horrible sense of ambiguity, uncertainty.

_You’re in over your head._

Well, _duh._ He’d been thinking of the guy nonstop. Every experience he had, he’d want to turn around and go, “Ty, look!” Every Tumblr post, every funny story, every embarrassing moment— “Ty, look!”

And, as he was walking to the bus, he had his earbuds in, listening to Taylor Swift, and _that_ reminded him of Ty too. Robbie could fucking _see_ him in his mind’s eye, laughing in that cute way he did, holding his side and doubling over, only to throw his head back, bring his knees up. Eventually, he’d fall onto his side, laughing so hard he couldn’t make a sound anymore. Robbie could feel Ty’s large hands reaching up to his shoulders, the heaviness of his palms, the huff of his breath thundering down Robbie’s throat, the soft uncertainty of his lips.

Robbie’s fingers twitched; his hands pulled his jacket firmly across his chest, a decisive movement before they took their places back in his pockets.

He liked to think that Ty was lonely, too, that his life felt incomplete and unsatisfying without the guitar-playing douchebag that effectively fucked with his heart for the last two weeks of his otherwise perfect summer.

_Face it, Robbie, he deserves better._

A swallow. His nose stung, eyes watering. The wind seemed to blow colder around him, the whispering of trees grew more menacing.

_He’s happier without you._

Taylor Swift’s voice in his ears seemed derogatory now, a slap in the face. Robbie didn’t have red lips or rosy cheeks—he was deathly, sickly pale and his lips were practically non-existent and a muted shade of purplish-brown. But Tyrone—oh, _Tyrone_ —Tyrone had the most beautiful pink glow on his cheeks, had soft red lips and the most adorable laugh, warm brown breathtaking eyes and the ability to be the centre of Robbie’s whole world.

If he closed his eyes, let his fingers clutch at the fabric of his jacket sleeve, he could pretend that it was Tyrone singing this to him, asking Robbie to remember him, and _by God,_ Robbie was never able to resist that voice.

He was melting, knees turning to jelly and tears stinging his eyes. The pole of the bus stop was freezing, even under his jacket and hoodie. He moved to grip the pole in his hand, jolt of cold erasing Ty from his memory, leaving Robbie shaking and sniffling and horribly empty.

He couldn’t focus in class that day.


End file.
